The Dallas daily herald. [volume] (Dallas, Tex.) 1873-1887, 1887-05-21

Eben's first uniform OF gray mixed
cloth was made, and the strong stur-
dy fellow was not sorry that he had u
chance of "Gittin' out o. henscratch
o. the house." Us he expressed it. III.
ley and Mack soon followed, and the
beams OF the old loom trembled as
the shuttle flew back and forth turn
ing it's strokes to the rhythmic drone
OF the busy spinning wheel. They were
busy Aunt Nina and Betty, weaving
O suit for Hamp, and all too soon the
call came. The hungry call for more
troops. The blood curdling howl OF
the famished dogs Of war. "More
menl More men!" And when the
men were torn and rent asunder, the
last, most heartrending demand came,
"Give US your boysl Give us your
boys"
All, the war, the war; Not satisfi
ed with the blood OF men, the tender
forms OF cherished boyhood-all-all
must 90. Not content with the yell
low grain, the tender stalk, while yet
in the milk, must be cut down. The
flower OF the south was plucked and
trampled under the iron heel OF relent-
less war, and now the gaunt, bloody
hand was extended to Gull the hall
blown bud, the hope Of the land!
Four boys gone marching away to
die for cause, the business OF which
the poor widow was unable to argue
What did she care for the doctrine OF
states rights? How could the per-
petuation or abolition OF slavery al
feet her? Her four boys were gone
marching away, marching away. Not
with plumes waving and victorious
banners floating in the breeze. No, not
triumphant and flushed with hope.
They had gone marching away into
the Jaws OF grim death, to fill the
breach in the lines by the Potomac's
crimsoned flood, Marching away with
Hopping cloth hats and mixed gray
uniforms OF homespun, and ill-ftting
shoes OF red leather, your boys had
gone, marching away, marching away.
Eben was killed in the wilderness,
Riley died in prison, Hamp died OF ex.
haustion and the hardships OF the
northern climate, while following Jeb.
Stuart in his wild rides over mountain
and valley.
All, you that are thrilled with stir.
ring emotions when you read how
that knightly commander, bearded
and booted, rode forward down into
battle witn q song on his lips
when the dew is on the blossom"
Little think We how many brave
boyish hearts swelled up into their
throats at the thought OF widowed
mothers among the barrens.
Mack came home. He was brought
on the cars to the nearest station,
and then hauled in cart to his home
in the piney woods. Only the poor
shattered wreck of q man came home,
and she had watched four stout lads
60 marching away.
al haint got but two now, an Mack,
poor Teller, I'm afeared he'll never see
the blackberry blossoms ag'in. he
was terribly wounded at the start an
them hospitle muses. thest in o man
ner made it wuss Then here's Little
Dick, God SEN they won't want my
baby boy"
But they did. They wanted the
baby boy. The hungry war dogs
must snap and snarl over the weakly
frame OF Little Dick, too.
How we'll ] remember the weakly
looking ladl Five feet, scant at that,
slender and boyish. Two great hol
low eyes set in pinched, pale lace,
| the unattractiveness OF which was
heightened by thin, scattered head
Of sun .scorched hair. A little whitish,
fuzzy down on cheek and chin, where
the beard should have appeared had
the surroundings given more encour'
aCement. Colorless complexion, save
the sallow cast OF sunburr, and few
blue veins up under the brim OF his
nopped hat. The ill-ftting clothes
hung about his person, and the boys
SAID that he used to have to drag his
musket when out OF breath on long
march.
Poor Aunt Mimal She left the bed
side where the body OF her emaciated
boy lay in inert and indifferent pros.
tration between life and death, the
manly tones of voice dwindled down
to n querrelous treble. and the animal
ed look changed to the vacant nerve
less stare OF hopelessness. She lett
this sorrowful scene to enfold in o
fond embrace the puny form OF hei
baby boy. Great tears chased one
another down the bosom OF the lift
ting Jacket, and kisses rained on the
un-burned cheek until the lips, parch
ed with grief, were no longer able &c
drop the holy dew of a mothers love
on the pale cheek of her baby boy
Betty wept, and prayed, and huggee
Little Dick to her bosom-that bosom
on which his baby locks had oft beer
pillowed.
Sheit was who first taught the baby
| to walk, and then to talk. She had